


With Blood and Rage of Crimson Red

by RedHoodie1723



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Lanterns (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Addiction, Gen, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Hal Jordan & Bruce Wayne Coparenting Jason Todd, Hal Jordan is a good parent, Jason Todd Is A Red Lantern, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Overdose, Possibly Pre-Slash, for Batlantern, it was catherine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28612326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHoodie1723/pseuds/RedHoodie1723
Summary: Jason was only 11 when his life was irreversibly changed. Now the newest member of the Red Lantern Corps, he is immediately thrust into a dangerous game where losing could mean death. With practically half the villains in the universe after him and the rest of the Lantern Corps, Jason must watch his step at every corner. To overcome this threat and find a way to save himself and the people he cares for, Jason must first overcome his own inner demons and learn to trust himself and the people around him.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Guy Gardner & Jason Todd, Hal Jordan & Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bleez, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & John Stewart, John Moore & Jason Todd
Comments: 38
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the other fic I made for the DCUBB that I am not sure still qualifies for the event lol. 
> 
> Also, said this in the fic I just posted, but I am still working on my Stray AU fic, everything here is pre-written except for like two chapters at the end.
> 
> Everything up until the start of the fic is canon, so Dick being Robin and leaving to be Nightwing, stuff like that.
> 
> Huge thanks to my artist, ReggieHood (who will be posting their piece later today)

Shouts erupted from behind Jason, filling the narrow streets of Crime Alley. His breath hitched as he broke out in a run. Jumping over a metal fence, he stuffed the stolen roll of cash in his pocket. He heard a shot and saw a bullet spark as it hit a drainpipe. Heart jumping in his chest, Jason turned a corner, allowing himself a quick glance behind his shoulder. Four of Penguin’s men sprinted after him, large, ugly, drunk, and thoroughly pissed.

Keep running, keep running, Jason told himself, Keep running or you’re dead. Jason flinched as two more shots rang out, causing him to stumble. He caught himself and continued on, the stolen wad of cash a firm weight in his pocket.

Dirty water splashed onto his pant leg as Jason ran through a puddle from last night’s rainstorm. He could feel himself getting tired, his body calling out for rest, food, anything, but Jason kept running. 

Jason could practically smell the putrid scent of alcohol as the men gained on him. A snapshot of Willis flashed in Jason’s mind, stumbling home intoxicated and angry.

Leaping forward to grab at a fire escape ladder, Jason nimbly climbed to the top of the building. Bullets clipped at his heels, urging Jason to push on. Once at the roof, Jason peeked over the edge, his heart beating in his chest. The men prowled below, probably not willing to risk climbing the rusty, old fire escape to catch a kid.

They were loud and rowdy, shouting threats and a few lewd statements at him, calling for Jason to come down so they could finish him off. Firmly deciding that that was not an option he wanted to take, Jason leaned back from the dge, trying to block the noises out.

Sliding down to lean against one of the rooftop air conditioners, Jason let out a shaky breath. His hands were clammy and twitching as he reached up to wipe the sweat off his brow. Curses echoed in the alley next to the building, calling out for Jason to come down to finish the fight he started. But he wasn’t looking to fight, he just wanted to pay the bills, make it through another month. 

And it wasn’t easy doing just that. A months rent was a struggle on it’s lonesome, throwing in grocery and utility expenses were practically a death sentence. Jason hated Willis, with every inch of his being, but he served a purpose. No matter the bruises and cuts, at least he brought home a check at the end of the day.

He never asked how Willis brought the money home, both because he was too scared to ask and too scared to know. But his questions were answered when a few beat cops broke down their down and dragged him away for working with Two Face.

Now it was harder than ever, Jason was a kid, he couldn’t find employment, and his mom was too out of it most days to get out of bed, much less hold a steady paying job. So he turned to pickpocketing. He was small and unassuming, and he was quick. It wasn’t hard, and rarely dangerous, or at least, it wasn’t until he got a little too dumb and a little too bold. Those men could have killed him, and over what? A roll of cash. This could be life saving for Jason, but it was hardly worth it if he lost his life retrieving it.

Although, he supposed, if it wasn’t for him, if he managed to keep him mom safe and sober, they wouldn’t be stuck in this pit. If he had stopped her from blowing their rent on “just one more hit” then maybe they would have enough cash saved to get out of this dump.

Jason wanted to scream. He wanted to curse his father for drinking away their money, to curse Gotham and it’s corruption for trapping them and everyone else in an endless decline of debt and destruction. He wanted to hunt down each and every one of his mom’s dealers, who demanded so much for something so awful. He wanted to hate himself for not protecting his mom from Willis, for letting her spiral into her own addiction. Jason wanted to hate himself for everything he couldn’t do to keep her safe.

The shouts from the alleyway were drowned out by the shouting in Jason’s own head. Gotham had failed her citizens in every way imaginable, and yet it was Jason’s fault Catherine never woke up from her haze. He wasn’t good enough, not a good enough protector, not a good enough son, and now she exists in a state akin to death. Why wasn’t he good enough?

The sound of metal clanging started up, no doubt the men trying to follow despite the risks. Jason collected himself, shoving down his feelings, and looked around. The roof he was on neighbored two other buildings, one next to the alleyway where the men were slowly making the climb up. Jason turned and examined the other building. It was a typical, rundown apartment building that populated the area. The ledge was about a foot higher and six feet away from the building Jason stood on now, but the drunken curses from behind him made it clear he didn’t have any other choice.

Pushing himself off the ground from next to the air conditioner, Jason took a step away from the opposite ledge. Taking a deep breath, Jason sprinted and launched himself at the other building. For a split second, he was flying, but just like everyone in his life, the feeling could never stay. Jason landed on the edge of the second building, his shins scraping the rough concrete. He burst forward, grabbing the handle to the rooftop entrance. Ripping open the door, Jason flew down the stairs. When the number on the wall turned into a 1, Jason exited the stairwell, almost running into an elderly lady smoking in the hallway. She threw profanities in Jason’s direction as he exited the building. 

Jason took a moment to catch his breath before pulling his hood over his head and ducking into the slow stream of people traversing the sidewalk.

The entire walk back to the apartment, Jason kept checking over his shoulder. His heart raced in his chest at the prospect of being caught. He even doubled back twice to make sure the men weren’t following him back to his apartment. Once sure he was alone, Jason climbed up a fire escape for the second time that day. Pushing open the window (the lock having broke years ago), he tumbled into the debilitated, old room. Jason leaned his head against the wall, letting himself relax for a second.

The dirty street water had fully soaked through his pant leg and shoes. Sweat coated his form, some from excretion and the rest from fear. Jason knew his face and hands would be covered in dirt, and his hair was probably a wild mess of dirty curls. He wanted nothing more than crawl into the shower and lay there for a while, but he couldn’t. Not only because he knew the water would only feel biting and cold against his skin, before running dry, but because he had to check on his mom first.

After a minute, Jason pushed himself up. Now that the adrenaline had run its course, the malnutrition and lack of sleep were evident in Jason’s aching frame. He was only 11 and he felt 30. Despite all that, relief relaxed his body, he still had the money. Jason grabbed the roll of cash, examining it. There were a few twenties and some tens, around $150 total. It wouldn’t be enough to cover rent, food, and utilities, but it’s a start, and it is certainly better than what they had before.

Stumbling over to the bedroom door, Jason felt his eyes start to flutter shut. He let out a small yawn as he walked into the room. His mom was lying on the bed, eyes open and staring unseeing at the ceiling.

In the passing months, this had become more and more common. After Willis left, she had to deal with their crushing economic situation and the leftover traumas Willis had given them both. They couldn’t afford therapy or to move somewhere where they had a better chance at life. So she turned to the temporary release of heroin. It worked, at the start, she was happy for the first time in a while. But that didn’t last for long, and soon enough one hit every day or so wasn’t enough. She needed more and more, not to feel happy, but just so she wouldn’t be in pain. The dealers came by so often that he would be on a first name basis with them by now if they weren’t such scumbags. Jason knew he should have done something—anything—to stop her, but once again, he wasn’t good enough, not strong enough to tell her no, not when she was hurting like that.

Jason stood on his tiptoes to reach the blanket on the end of the bed, pulling it up so she wouldn’t be cold. Jason’s hand graced over her arm, the cold of her skin shocking him. Jason’s breath turned sharp as he took into account her still body. She wasn’t breathing.

Panic spiked in his chest as Jason jumped on the bed, shaking her. Catherine’s head lolled, her eyes glassy and her face cold. He screamed for help, once, then again and again, but knowing no one would come. Jason felt his voice grow hoarse as he shouted. 

“Mama, please no,” He whispered, small fingers curling into her shirt as he gave up on looking for help. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he collapsed by her side. “Mom, wake up, please.”

No response. Not even a hum or groan. She lay still, frozen, and… lifeless.

She was gone. Jason didn’t know when it happened. Last night? Today? When he was out? Or had she passed while he was home and Jason hadn’t cared enough to notice? He failed her, he promised to keep them safe and now she was gone.

His mom was gone and it was his fault.

Grief quickly soured into anger. Anger at himself for letting this happen. He had stood by and watched as her addiction destroyed her and he did nothing. He screamed, throwing his fist into the wall. Pain exploded up his arm, but Jason didn’t care. He deserved it. 

Jason’s vision blurred red.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Let's play a game of how many times I can refer to Jason as "The Child" or "The Kid" without it being weird.
> 
> Anyways! New chapter! LMK what you think in the comments :)

Water dripped off the stalactites in the cave, creating a plinking noise in the background. Bats occasionally let out a screech and their wings could be heard as they flew across the open expanse. Computer keys clicked as the soft hum of machinery filled the air. The Batcave was far from silent, yet the quiet was ever-present.

When Dick left, he took a piece of Bruce with him. Every day on patrol, Bruce will check over his shoulder, expecting to see his son, grinning and happy, but finding nothing. The child’s incessant chatter filled up the hollow Manor, turning the ghost of a house into a home. Even when he wasn’t speaking, he was moving. Tapping his fingers, dancing to a beat only he could hear, cartwheeling across the floor. Dick was always so full of life, a fact only made more evident by the uncomfortable silence that filled Bruce’s life now. 

Although, he had no one to blame but himself. Bruce had only wanted what’s best for Dick, a chance to get a degree, live a happy life. It had never occurred to him that Dick might want something else, and by the time it did, it was too late. Bruce would never regret wanting to keep his son safe, but he did regret pushing him away while doing it. 

He could fix things, all it would take was a phone call. All he had to do was pick up the phone. But he was a coward, afraid to face the fact that he might not know everything. That he couldn’t control everything. His parents would be disappointed; he knows Alfred is. 

All this talk about controlling the fear of criminals, and it turns out he’s the only real coward here.

Work was supposed to be the only relief from the memories of a better time, but even staying in the cave too long brought up too many regrets. That he spent more time here than with Dick in their home. How he fired Dick not even 10feet away from where he was sitting. Bruce couldn’t stay here much longer, or he might crack. Any interrupt, a distraction would be helpful.

An alert had popped up on the screen of the Batcomputer, answering Bruce’s prayers.

Leaning forward, he glanced over the report. An unidentified object was flying a direct route to Blackgate.

Frowning, Bruce pulled on his cowl. Blackgate wasn’t nearly as notorious as Arkham, but the prison still housed a number of dangerous criminals. Whatever this thing was, it couldn’t be good.

~~~~~

When he arrived on the scene, a hole had been ripped through the roof of the building. Prisoners and guards alike were panicking, however, Bruce didn’t spot any potential escapees. Grappling up to the roof, Bruce found the hole burning at the edge as if it had been burned by acid. The smell of napalm was pungent in the air. 

Careful not to touch the jagged edges, still dripping hot metal, Bruce leapt into the building below. Following the sounds of chaos, he found himself in a hallway that looked like it came straight out of a murder movie. Parts of the wall burned with a similar-looking acid to the one used on the roof, although this time blood was smeared around it. Dents carved themselves into the ceiling, warning of someone with immense strength. The door to one of the cells was completely ripped off its hinge, flung to the side. 

Bruce went over all the possible suspects as he inched warily towards the open cell. Bane? Killer Croc? 

Bruce turned the corner, met by the sight of a man and a little boy, neither of which were who he had expected. The man had scraggly dark hair, stubble, and an unkempt appearance. He was wearing a prisoner’s uniform, his name tag reading ‘Todd’. Blood dripped from the side of his face and he was curled up in pain. He guessed it was a broken or bruised rib, however, if the rib had punctured anything, he would need to get the man to a hospital quickly. 

The other person was much stranger. He was tiny, probably not any older than 11 or 12. The boy had thick, curly hair and his frame was slight. The strangest thing about him was the glowing red uniform. With the glowing lights, red boots and torso, and black pants, Bruce didn’t even need to see the symbol on his chest to know that this boy had been turned into a Red Lantern.

Neither of the two noticed his entrance, as the man was still wracked with pain, and the boy was focused entirely on the former. Bruce only knew what Hal, John, and Guy had told him about the Red Lanterns, and that wasn’t much. He was aware that they were entirely driven by rage, with no rational thought. Bruce didn’t know what this man was to the boy, but he had to stop this before someone got killed.

Just as the boy raised a glowing first, Bruce stepped in between the two. Grabbing the arm as it came down, Bruce flipped the child over into a safety hold. He thrashed against him, but Bruce was quick to stab him in the neck with a syringe from his utility belt. However, the sedative only seemed to piss him off more.

With a screech, the boy escaped his grasp. Bruce stumbled slightly, before regaining his bearings. The boy was kneeling on the floor, a low growl escaping from his throat. Bruce raised his hands slightly, hoping to convey peace. The boy only narrowed his eyes.

Bruce made a movement to step between the boy and the man, but it didn’t go unnoticed. With an enraged shout, the little ball of fury slammed into him, throwing them both through the wall.

Pain shot through his back where he made impact with the next wall. Grunting, he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the second swing the Lantern made at him. Bruce silently cursed, he should’ve been more prepared, he was fighting an opponent with unknown abilities. Even further, this was a child, he couldn’t hurt him, so he had to find a way to subdue him without causing damage. The sedative didn’t work, but maybe…

Bruce caught the next punch thrown at him, his wrist groaning in protest. The kid was inexperienced, but the ring gave him strength and removed any restraint he might’ve had. Throwing the fist to the side, Bruce forced the kid off balance. This allowed him to strike the vagus nerve. The kid collapsed instantly, crumpling to the ground.

Bruce removed one of his gloves, to check his pulse. After making sure the boy had no other injuries, Bruce put a pair of cuffs around his wrist. With what he’s seen today, he doubts they would’ve held him long, but it relieved some of the tension in his shoulders. Putting his gauntlet back on, Bruce stood up.

Stepping through the large hole in the wall, Bruce kneeled down beside the man, last name Todd, if Bruce remembered his name tag correctly. The man was still conscious, eyes looking up in fear.

“Is he gone? Please, I didn’t do nothin’. The brat, he- he-” The man tried to say, choking on his own words.

“Stop talking, I don’t know the extent of your injuries and you could be causing yourself more harm,” Bruce stated. Bruce carefully checked him over, finding no injuries that he hadn’t spotted earlier already.

Standing up, Bruce turned to the side. He tapped a button on his gauntlet that would sent an alert to the GCPD. He had no doubt they had already heard the commotion and were making their way here, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Emergency services are on their way, I suggest waiting here. Do not try to move,” Bruce told the man. While he knew enough First Aid to stitch himself up and care for basic injuries, he normally left the care of the victim to the professionals, to avoid accidently hurting anyone further. The man gave a stiff nod of acknowledgement.

After making his way back to the other room, Bruce reevaluated the young boy. While he had a light-based uniform that was a commonality between the Lanterns, he had no mask. His eyes were closed, but Bruce was not going to forget the hazy, red glare that the child had focused on the other man with such contempt. 

The uniform was tight, making it painfully clear how underfed the child was. Bruce felt a pang of sympathy for the kid. He didn’t know what caused him to turn, but he can’t imagine it was pretty. His best guess was a street kid, it would explain the malnourishment and possible backstory. Gotham wasn’t kind to her citizens, not even the young or needy.

With a sigh, Bruce carefully slid his hands under the kid’s knees and torso, lifting him up. He needed to get the Lantern back to the cave. If he can get in contact with at least one of the Green Lanterns, then they can discuss what to do about the boy. He just hoped they could figure out a way to fix the boy before it’s too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was setting up the introduction of Dick, Hal, Guy, and John here, so be prepared to see H, G, & J in Chapter 3 and Dick in Chapter 4!
> 
> I appreciate any and all comments left on my fic, so while it's not a requirement to read, just know that I love seeing them and they make my day, so thanks to everyone who leaves one <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Hope y'all like it! LMK what you think in the comments!

Bruce knew there must be something awful in the kid’s past to cause him to turn into a Red Lantern. However, just because he knew it was coming didn’t make it any less painful.

After Bruce had sent a message to Hal Jordan and John Stewart, he turned his attention to the boy. It had taken Bruce a bit to find all of the kid’s records. Some were listed under a fake name, some didn’t even have a name. However, his facial recognition was able to find a mugshot from a year ago. 

The boy’s name was Jason Peter Todd. He was eleven years old, born on August 16th, 2008. 

His father was one Willis Todd, the same man Bruce saved at Blackgate earlier. Throughout his childhood, both Jason and his mother were admitted to clinics and hospitals with multiple injuries. Both reported stories that seemed outlandish and a few nurses had cited possible domestic abuse as the cause. However, there was never any follow through with social services. 

About a year ago, Willis was arrested and jailed twice for minor offenses. He got caught selling weapons on Two-Face’s behalf. He was arrested and has remained in Blackgate since, no reported visitations from neither his wife nor son. No new injuries were reported from either Catherine or Jason. It didn’t take the World’s Greatest Detective to find out what Willis was doing to his family.

Jason’s mother, Catherine Todd, was a different problem. She had been admitted to Gotham General twice for overdosing on Heroin. She attended rehab for a month after the first time, then dropped out after she was unable to pay the fee. She didn’t bother with rehab the second time. The records didn’t show if Catherine had a good relationship with Jason outside of the drug abuse.

All of that brings Bruce back around to the mugshot. There was security camera footage attached to the police report. Bruce clicked on it, a blurry video coming to life on his screen. It was about two and a half minutes in total. The video showed a burly man backing Jason into an alley. Jason’s facial expression wasn’t clear, but from the fidgeting alone, it was clear he was nervous. The man loomed over Jason, clearly intoxicated and holding a knife.

The man grabbed Jason’s arm, which prompted the child to start shrieking. He then slapped his hand over Jason’s mouth and shoved the child backwards. 

Bruce felt his knuckles turn white as he gripped the edge of the keyboard on the Batcomputer.

The man then raised his arm, knife in hand. Bruce growled, about to shut off the video, when two cops came strolling into the alley. The man hesitated enough for one cop to tackle him before Jason was hurt. The cops seem generally unconcerned when they slapped cuffs on both of them for ‘fighting each other’. The video ended on its own.

Bruce felt himself slowly losing it. Those cops clearly saw what was happening, and yet the child is part of the problem? 

Bruce took a breath, held it, and let it out. He had to keep calm, Jason was still unconscious in the Batcave Medbay, but Bruce didn’t know how long that would last. 

After repeating his breathing exercises a few times, Bruce turned back to the police report. It was clearly poorly written, as the Officer who submitted it neglected to follow many standard procedures while writing it up, as well as the fact that it was listed as a fight between the two, rather than an attempted assault and murder. The report also mentions the fact that the man wasn’t charged with a crime. He didn’t even have to pay bail to be let out, but Bruce had a feeling that money was exchanged somewhere in this process. Paying off cops in Gotham was ridiculously easy, no matter how much Commissioner Gordon tried to prevent it.

Bruce was not surprised that Jason had been turned into a Red Lantern. Even with the limited knowledge of Jason’s life and how Red Lanterns work, Bruce could see why it happened. That didn’t mean he liked it. As far as Bruce knew, this was permanent. Jason could be stuck like this forever (or, at least, until he dies). Bruce shot a mournful look in the direction of the Medbay. That poor child’s life was practically over, not that it was much of a life in the first place. With the abuse, the drugs, and the trauma, Bruce couldn’t imagine there were many bright spots in Jason’s life.

He couldn’t help but think that if he had done more, Jason’s situation might be better. Bruce dedicated his nights to fighting crime and his days to rebuilding what that crime has destroyed. The position that Bruce is in, with his training, wealth, and skills, puts him at the perfect place to help others. And yet there are still people like Jason who are suffering under the corruption and cruelty that runs rampant within the city borders. All of the time and effort he puts in, and yet, bad things still happen to good people. It was like one step forward was two steps back in terms of fighting Gotham’s issues.

Bruce sighed, opening Catherine Todd’s file. He would need to get in contact with her regarding Jason’s condition. They had a landline but dropped the bills months ago. So the only way Bruce could contact her was through mail or in person, and he certainly wasn’t going to send a letter telling a woman that her son had been turned into a Red Lantern. Furthermore, it would be a good opportunity to judge the woman’s character, to see how she would react to the news.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce stood up from the computer. 

Walking over to the Medbay, Bruce opened the door and froze, finding Jason wide awake. The boy didn’t have the red haze glowing around his form, instead, he looked alert and aware of his surroundings.

“Where am I?”

\-----

Was it too much to ask for a small break? Hal would be grateful for just a short sleep-in at this point.

Oa had been a flurry of activity in the past month, with reports of missing Lanterns coming from all over the color spectrum. Only one Green Lantern had disappeared so far, but the other Corps couldn’t say the same, reporting anywhere from 2-3 all the way to 16 different Lanterns having gone missing our found dead.

Hal and the other ‘space cops’ had been dragged back and forth between the crime scenes like they were detectives on a case. Frankly, Hal had no idea what he was doing, but he wasn’t about to let the others know that.

And on top of all of that, he got a call from Bruce saying that there’s a new Red Lantern in Gotham. And since Gotham is part of his Sector (whether Batman likes it or not) that means this new Lantern is his problem now. And now that it’s his problem, he’s dragged John into it and made it John’s problem as well. Serves the man right for stealing the last Oreo.

And John got him back by bringing Guy along. It’s just one big field trip at this point.

In his message, Bruce said that he successfully subdued the Red Lantern. This gave Hal and the others enough time to make a quick pit stop to Ysmault, otherwise known as the hellscape the Red Lanterns call home. 

The fiery planet grew larger as the Lantern’s neared it. Hal heard Guy mutter something under his breath, but it was so quiet that he missed it. Hal’s mind flashed back to Guy’s run as a Red Lantern.

“Guy, you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to,” Hal stopped, turning to the red-head. He shook his head, waving away Hal’s concerns.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Besides me, Rankorr is the only other Earth Red Lantern, and I don’t got a red ring anymore. We’ll need his help,” Guy reasoned. For someone who used to be a counselor, Hal wondered if Guy ever followed his own advice about mental health. John shoot a concerned look in his direction, but didn’t say anything.

With a frown, he turned back to the looming planet.

Hal kept his guard up as he neared the atmosphere. Not all of the sane Red Lanterns despised the Green Lanterns, but it’s always unpredictable, whether they decide to help or not.

The pungent smell of the desecrated planet was almost overpowering as they touched down on the surface. The waters of the Blood Ocean bubbled around them as they made their way to the Red Lantern Battery. The looming, shining buildings of Oa could be intimidating at times, but he mucch preferred it to this apocalypse world.

The hair on Hal’s arms raised as they got closer, a chill traveling down his spine. He could see Guy and Hal were just as uncomfortable, their rings glowing and ready for a fight. Tension wracked their bodies as they made their way forward.

A different smell started moving through the air. Rot. Like something died here. The putrid smell invaded his senses, turning his stomach.

Turning the corner, his eyes meeting a gruesome sight, the source of the stentch. Six Red Lanterns lay dead, masacred, blood pooling around their bodies as they stared lifelessly at the sky.

“I think ‘m gonna be sick,” Guy murmured.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Nightwing!!
> 
> Sorry for the wait on this chapter, school got busy.
> 
> I hope you guy like this <3

Jason’s head hurt like it was split in two. His muscles keep twitching, his hands begging to hit something.

What?

What did he want to hit? What was going on? Why did everything hurt, like fire was running through his veins?

He felt so angry he felt he could kill someone. No. No, he wasn’t a killer. He was Jason. He was 11 years old. He lived in Gotham City. And he wasn’t a killer. He was not his father.

His father! Jason remembers seeing him. Recently. But it’s blurry, the memory tinted red. Why was it tinted red?

Right now, everything was dark, with no colors, red or otherwise, invading his vision. Slowly, light started filtering through, as Jason blinked his eyes open. He saw a gray ceiling with attached circular lights.

Sitting up, Jason groaned as his world swam in a mix of objects and a red haze. The urge to hurt someone came calling once more, but Jason pushed it down with a mantra of ‘I don’t kill. I don’t kill. I don’t kill-’

The red haze receded to the corners of his vision, the room coming into better focus. It looked like some sort of small hospital, with equipment that probably cost more than Jason’s entire apartment situated across the room. Three of the four walls looked to be made of rock, while the fourth had a clear glass door and translucent glass walls. The area outside of the semi-clear glass walls was dark and hard to discern. 

Jason tried sitting up further, only to meet resistance. He tugged his arms again, to no avail. The red started to reappear as Jason looked down to find his wrists strapped down to the hospital bed. Further so, his hands were covered with tight, black gloves. Jason looked further up his arms, to find the black bleeding into a red. The blankets prevented him from seeing his legs, but a circular, black insignia stood out on his chest. Jason panicked. These clothes were not his own, this was not his apartment. Jason tugged at the restraints again, a growl growing in his throat. He needed to get out.

Kill kill kill kill killkillkil-

NO

Jason’s breath was labored as he shook his head, trying to clear the dark thoughts plugging his mind. What was wrong with him?

He was stuck in a foreign place, his memories from the past day or two blurry, wearing strange clothes, and tied to a bed. Oh god.

He’d been kidnapped, he was going to die. Some crazy scientist was going to cut him open and sell his organs on the black market. Jason tugged harder at the restraints, only to freeze at the sound of the door opening.

Batman. Batman was standing at the door, staring right back at Jason. Jason was silent for a second, the rapid beating of his heart the only noise filtering through his head, before he spoke up: “Where am I?” His words sounded more like a scared whine than he was willing to admit.

“The Batcave,” he answered, sounding slightly intrigued. Jason wasn’t sure about what to do with this development. It was no secret that Batman was a hero. It was also common knowledge that he hated anyway who hurt children. But what if it was just a front? Why else would Jason be here?

“Why am I…” Jason trailed off. Why am I here? Why am I dressed like this? Why am I not remembering anything? Why am I thinking weirdly?

“What do you remember?” He asked as if that wasn’t one of Jason’s questions as well. 

“Why should I tell you? What’s going on here?” He shot back, desperation tinted his words the longer he remained tied down.

“I am here to help, I just need you to tell me what you know so I can work from there,” Batman’s voice was a soothing as it could be with all the gravel stuck in his throat, but Jason knew better than to trust that. Then again… he also knew better to make people in power angry, and right now, tied to a bed in a strange place with a jacked vigilante as his only company…. He certainly wasn’t the one in power.

“Something about my dad, I think. Maybe? It’s all fuzzy. And my mom…” was dead. The memory cleared and the image of her resting body came to the forefront of his mind. Jason felt sick.

He felt like vomiting, but Batman’s voice interrupted his panic.

“What about your mother?” He asked, his voice barely registering as the images of her cold body flicked through his mind.

“She- she di-” Jason felt his breathing pick up as his eyes started to water. 

“She’s gone.”

Jason choked back his sobs. The restraints stopped him from covering his face, so he yanked at them. When they wouldn’t budge, the tears started flowing and Jason let out a scream and yanked again. The metal that the leather straps were attached to creaked, but didn’t move. Jason screamed and tried to yank again, only to be stopped by a black glove.

Batman stood above him, a pitying expression on his face.

“Please stop fighting, you are going to hurt yourself,” The masked man tried to reason. Jason growled back in his face, forgetting his earlier plan to avoid pissing of the vigilante.

“Let me go!” He shrieked, pulling again. Red pulsed around him in a violent fashion. She was dead. Gone. She overdosed because Jason wasn’t good enough. He was never good enough. 

Batman grabbed his arms once more.

“Jason, please. I can’t let you free until you promise to calm down,” Batman said. Jason continued to scream. He wanted out.

In the edge of his mind, he recognized footsteps approaching, but he didn’t look up, he was too focused on the restraints. Jason felt his breath go short as he tugged against them, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Hey, kid.” A new voice joined the cacophony of Jason’s screams and Batman’s soft pleas.

Jason looked up, temporarily stopping his wild movements.

It was Nightwing, the new hero in Bludhaven. Rumor has it he was the first Robin. Robin was good. Robin saved him once. Robin could be trusted.

“Hey, how ‘bout we calm down for a sec. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Nightwing’s voice sounded like the voice his mom used whenever she was sober enough to clean his scraps from when Willis got his hand on him. That voice was safe.

“My mom-” Jason started, tripping over his words, “She’s gone, she’s gone and I didn’t save her. It’s my fault, all my fault.” Jason sobbed again.

“She’s gone,” He repeated as if saying it again would make it any less true. 

Nightwing let out a soft “Oh” before reaching forward and opening his arms. “Can I?”

Jason hesitated for a minute. Hands meant Willis coming home drunk, the man in the dark alley, the Officers dragging him into the cop car. But Robin was safe. Robin could be trusted.

Jason nodded tentatively. Nightwing leaned forward slowly, giving Jason time to change his mind. Warm arms wrapped around him.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s gonna be okay,” Words were whispered in his ear. And before Jason knew it, he started crying again. He couldn’t hug Nightwing back because of the restraints, but he buried his face in the hero’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay,”

After a few minutes, Jason started to feel exhausted, his bones weighed down by grief and confusion and terror.

It didn’t take long for his world to turn back to black.

\-----

“What are you doing here?” Bruce asked, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible.

“I came to pick up some of my stuff from the cave, I told you this, remember?” Dick’s voice was starkly different from the tone he used earlier. He sounded annoyed.

Bruce looked confused, so Dick filled the blank, “It’s Tuesday, remember?”

“Oh,” Bruce said. Dick snorted sardonically.

“Yeah.” He grabbed the bag that he had found before he heard the screaming. The screaming of a child. He had expected anything, from Bruce not showing his face to another nasty argument to break out when he visited. A baby Red Lantern was not on that list. The kid looked five seconds from ripping Bruce’s face off and Bruce looked as confused as ever when it came to kids.

“So, what’s his deal?” Dick asked. Bruce raised his eyebrow.

“He’s a Red Lantern,” Bruce deadpanned back at him. Dick scowled.

“Yeah, I figured that out. But how? And why did you kidnap him? Didn’t you learn your lesson last time you tried parenting?” Dick snarked, almost immediately regretting his last comment when he saw the hurt look on Bruce’s face. No, he has nothing to be sorry for. Dick was tired of living in Bruce’s shadow, dealing with his downright tyrannical rule. He is not relenting just because Bruce can’t handle a few mean comments.

Thankfully, Bruce did not return the comment, instead, turning to face the computer. With a click of a button, a file appeared on the screen. Jason Todd, 11-years-old, and supposedly, the next Red Lantern.

“I found him attacking a prisoner at Blackgate. Willis Todd, Jason’s father, who I suspect to be abusive. I knocked him out and brought him here. I’ve already called Jordan,” Bruce said as if giving a mission report. Dick knew that becoming a Red Lantern was more often than not permanent. This child is stuck like this until he dies. Dick wanted to be angry at Bruce’s apparent lack of empathy at Jason’s situation, but he’s worked with the man long enough to know that Bruce cares, he just refuses to show it.

“The restraints?” Dick asked.

“He was half-mad when I found him, Dick. If he woke up and hurt me or himself, or, god forbid, he hurt Alfred…” Bruce trailed off. He made a fair point, but Dick couldn’t imagine waking up tied down in a strange place did much to help his current emotional state.

Dick didn’t respond. Bruce opened his mouth like he was about to say something but immediately closed it.

“What?” Dick snapped.

“I- Do you-” Bruce sighed, “I have to meet Jordan, Stewart, and Gardner at the Watchtower to discuss Jason’s situation soon. He seemed to trust you. Do you mind watching Jason while I’m gone?” Bruce’s voice was quiet but hopeful. Dick knew this was more than Bruce asking for a favor. It was a temporary olive branch. Dick thought for a minute.

“Fine,” He said, “But I’m going back to Blud’ as soon as this is handled.” Bruce didn’t even seem to register the last part, his face almost resembling a smile.

“Thank you,” He said. Dick shrugged.

“I’m doing this for the kid,” Dick said firmly. He didn’t want to even acknowledge the part of him that was overjoyed with Bruce’s invitation, he wouldn’t. But… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Sorry for the slow update, life, y'know? Anyways, introducing Rankorr and Bleez in this chapter. I read the Red Lantern comic, but I am still not entirely sure how to write their characters, so lmk if anything feels out of place. Hope y'all enjoy!

Being a mercenary was a dirty profession. It had no honor, no prestige. Bleez despised them down to her core. The only thing she hated more was the cowards who hired them. They hide behind big names, too scared to get their own hands dirty. So when a paid mercenary targets her Lantern Corps? There would be hell to pay.

To find the bodies of her fellow Lanterns, strewn across Ysmault, their corpse rotting, enraged her. A crime like this would not go unseen, nor unpunished. It didn’t take very long to piece together who did this. The types of injuries, the brutal efficiency. She had no doubt that Lobo was the bastard behind this.

Well, maybe not behind this. Mercenaries aren’t smart enough to think for themselves. However, he could lead her to the coward behind Lobo’s attack. Well, her and Rankorr. The other Red Lantern insisted on following and helping her. She didn’t need his help to tear Lobo to pieces, but she supposed she wouldn’t entirely mind the company.

They touched down on Corusan, a planet well known for its citizens’ ruthless nature and infamous black market. The backrooms in their bars had backrooms attached to that. Corusan was a well-known hangout for the mercenary, and even if he wasn’t here, they could easily find someone who knew how to get into contact with him.

She and Rankorr walked into one of the more populated bars. They didn’t even bother changing their uniforms, the Red Lantern symbol standing out starkly on their chests. Most of the crowd immediately parted in the face of that symbol. A few looked like they wanted to be brave, but a quick glower in their direction was all it took to send them scampering in the other direction.

Rankorr grabbed a seat at the bar, Bleez electing to stand. He got comfy in his seat, while she swept her gaze over the room. Most of them were low lives, a few mid-tier criminals. None that could find Lobo for them. However, a group of people in the corner gave them suspicious looks, whispering back and forth to each other. Their hands rested on their weapons as if they were planning to draw right there. Bleez kept her eyes focused on them, the corner of her mouth lifted in a snarl. 

That held them at bay for a moment, but Bleez kept her gaze focused on them for a few seconds more before turning back to Rankorr.

“Where do we go first?” Rankorr asked while flagging down the bartender.

Bleez hummed. “We don’t need to go anywhere, they will come to us.”

He turned and gave her a funny look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bleez didn’t respond, electing to turn and order from the bartender.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the corner crowd grew restless, whispering and nudging each other until one stood up. She didn’t recognize him, but she didn’t need to know him to recognize the mark of a mercenary. He marched towards her, weapon in hand, his friends following suit until he stood right behind her.

“You’re coming with us,” he growled, his voice coming across strange through the ring’s translator. 

Bleez smirked and said, “This is what I meant,” before turning and grabbing the alien’s head. She slammed him into the hard surface of the bar, his face pushed up against the dirty metal. Bleez leaned in close, practically whispering in his eye.

“Are you sure about that?” her voice low and dangerous. The man froze beneath her, the other backing off a few feet. Rankorr just raised an impressed eyebrow before turning to take a sip of his drink.

The other bar patrons were slowly backing away and out of the bar. The rest of the band of criminals tried to join them, only to be met with a snarl as Rankorr rose from his seat. They stood frozen, waiting for what happened next.

“What do you want with us?” Rankorr asked, glaring down at the mercenary. He stuttered for a second.

“It’s a hit,” he choked out. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just money!”

Bleez pulled his head back only to slam it into the bar with more vigor than the last time. No honor among thieves, and apparently among mercenaries either. They have no motivation, no purpose, just greedy pigs looking for a paycheck.

“Who called it?” She asked, twisting his arm slightly when he hesitated.

“I- I don’t know, serious! But it’s a lot, a lot of money for any Lantern! Red, blue, green, violet,” he stammered. “Dead or alive.”

“How many?” she snarled. He whimpered.

“I don’t know, I swear. There’s been talk but it’s not like we’re updated on the kinda stuff. I- I heard there’s been a few captures, a few more kills, but nothing concrete. A day or so ago, on Ysmault, I heard Lobo got a few.”

“Really,” she said, her voice bordering on sarcastic.

“Do you have any helpful information per chance?” Rankorr questioned.

“Oh god they’re gonna kill me,” the mercenary moaned under his breath. Bleez narrowed her eyes.

“No,” She corrected. “We are going to kill you if you don’t answer our questions. Now, what else do you know?”

He sniffled under her glare. “Earth. I heard there’s a higher price on any Earth Lantern. I swear I don’t know any more.”

“How many times have you said that at this point?” Rankorr muttered before speaking up, “Do you need anything else?”

Bleez hummed.

“No,” she said, letting go of his arm and backing up a step. He looked like he was about to cry tears of joy at the release, an expression that was quickly interrupted by Bleez grabbing him by the throat.

“This never happened,” she said. Until they knew who was behind this, she didn’t want to risk them knowing that she’s on a warpath for their head. That might make things complicated.

The mercenary nodded fervently. Bleez tossed him to the side before turning on her heel and marching towards the door. Rankorr followed in her wake.

Emerging into the grey outdoors of the hellish planet she activated her ring.

“Wait!”

She turned around, “What?” Rankorr shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Where are you going?” he questioned. She snorted.

“To Earth, clearly.”

“Didn’t you hear him? That is going to be a hotspot of attacks in the next few days as everyone and everything scrambles to capture an Earth Lantern.”

“I know, why else would I want to go to that sad excuse for a planet?” Rankorr’s nose wrinkled at that insult to his home planet. “Besides, may I remind you that you too hail from Earth. You are at risk as well, you might as well join me and the other Lanterns. We would have numbers then.”

“What makes you think the other Lanterns will work with us?” he asked.

“They will if they want to know what we know,” she stated firmly. He sighed, activating his ring.

“And here we go again.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey lmk if any characters sound OOC, I'm not too familiar with any of the Lanterns except for Hal or John.


End file.
